All grown up
by PHLeaz
Summary: Alex Rider is 16 and he is still working for MI6. He's made a close bond with K-Unit and has gotten over Jack's death. But when he is asked to train CIA recruits in Brecon Beacons, how will he cope when an unexpected recruit arrives? No Tom, swearing, humour and craziness. May contain romance. Eh.
1. Chapter 1

A seemingly young man stepped out of his expensive, customised and bulletproof sleek, black SLS AMG. He pooped his sunglasses on, all the while screaming 'danger' from his body language. He moved like a predator, ready to hunt his prey and this didn't go unnoticed to the few civilians around Royal & General, who instantly averted their gaze and walked that little bit faster. Meanwhile, Alex just smirked, knowing that he had this effect on people. He didn't mind, though, because it instantly told him which person from this crowd was dangerous and which were just plain old harmless. He had quickly learned to analyse his surroundings, no matter where he was. Years of spying could certainly have that affect on a person. As he strolled over to the lift at Royal & General, he nodded to the receptionist, who knew his reasons for being here. When he stepped in onto the platform, Alex knew that the lift was scanning his whole body, recognising 4 weapons - 2 throwing knives and 2 Glock handguns, analysing his threat level (very high), and he also knew that it was about to set off silent alarms, but it stopped when it realised his clearance level -13. The highest that can possible be. As high as the heads of SO. The smirk stilled plastered on his face, Alex reached the 13th floor and walked over to Jones' office.

Not bothering to knock, like he usually did, Alex more or less threw the door open, silently relishing the fact that he was the only one who could get away with doing that. Mrs Jones, as usual, was sucking a peppermint and signing some paperwork. Her face was calm, expressionless, but it wasn't deviod of emotion, like Blunt's. Truth be told, she was much more humane than her predecessor, something clearly visible, to the trained eye, from the little personal touches to the room. When Alex entered, Tulip Jones lifted her head to look at him and simply said, "Alex."

"Aw, come on, Jones!" Alex said, grinning, "I'm a willing agent now! You really don't have to be so cold." It was true- Alex was a full MI6 agent. He joined them after Jack's death at the hands of Razim, intending for it to be a way to simply get over her loss by occupying himself. Mrs Jones wasn't sure about his choice, but in the end, he managed to convince her. The first months had been hard. He was blank, utterly deviod of all emotion, but the perfect spy. He had bottled up his grief and anger, but that proved to be disastrous, when, on one of his missions, he finally let go and killed all the 16 Scorpia assassins in the room. Unfortunately, K-Unit(along with Fox's replacement, Shark) had witnessed the whole thing and made it their personal mission to help him heal. After that, he realised that there was no other life for him than spying and surprisingly, healed with K-Unit's help and got over Jack's death, but quit school and chose the MI6 tutors instead. He became more cheerful, but he still regretted that mission, but overall, he improved. So, when he was handed his latest mission, he didn't refuse or whine like he would have 2 years ago, when he was 14.

Jones handed him a Manila folder, with the words _**CONFIDENTIAL**_ stamped on it. Ignoring the obvious writing, he opened the folder and began flicking through the pages. "So what's the mission this time? International Mafia? Gang lords? Triads? Crazy billionaire?" Alex asked. _That list was slightly depressing,_ he thought, _To say the least._

"None of the above," Jones replied, earning a raised eyebrow from Alex, "You are to provide training." To this, Mrs Jones expected an outburst. She thought that Alex would say something like, "Training?!... "Do I look like an instructor?!..."This isn't Boy Scouts!..." Or she thought that he would just simply up and walk away. Or explain to her in a calm, collected tone on why he couldn't do it or do something else or something or something else or... _Alex Rider is so unpredictable,_ she thought. But out of all the things, what she did not expect was Alex to exclaim,

"Finally, something new! I've been getting bored of these repetitive missions!" He began to properly read the folder now and while thinking out loud he said, "Looks like it'll be at Breacon Beacons... The Sarge is not going to be happy with that..." he muttered, "K-Unit will be helping me... Those bastards owe me their LIVES... And we will be training a bunch of... CIA recruits?" He sighed, closed the folder and muttered under his breath, "I don't even want to ask why..."

"You will be assisted by Agent Daniels," that seemed to lighten up his mood a bit, "and to clarify, we are only providing this service because we..." she coughed into her fist, "owe the CIA a significantly large favour."

"Your definition of 'significantly large' and the rest of the world's definition of 'significantly large' is significantly different. So, I'm not going to even ask." he said, raising his eybrow and cocking his head. A rare smile grew on Mrs Jones' face and an even rarer sarcastic tone accompanied her words as she said,

"Well, aren't you all grown up?"

(Read this time skip in that SpongeBob voice) **_A few days later_**

Alex Rider was nervous. Now that he realised he was nervous, he was ashamed. Now he was ashamed at himself for feeling ashamed. He was supposed to be stone faced demon! Scarier than the Seargent! The indifferent, unloving and deal-with-it instructor for a bunch of snot nosed CIA recruits! Why the hell was he nervous now? He never had trouble getting into character for a mission! _Suck it up_ , he thought, _when they come, you have to be ready to make them scream!_ Meanwhile, a small part of his brain said, _Jeez, that was a bit extreme!_ Purposefully ignoring it, Alex walked onto the crudely raised platform in Breacon Beacons, where K-Unit and Ben were waiting for him.

"So, Cub, I hope you've figured this out, cause we've got no plan."

"Yes, Shark," Alex said with a sigh, addressing the dark skinned, black haired, brown eyed and well built man in front of him, "I have figured it out. Anyways, you should know me by now: I always have a plan." Alex grinned.

"Cub." Wolf gruffly said, greeting him with bossy indifference.

"Cub!" Snake, Eagle and Ben excitedly exclaimed (Snake much calmer), greeting him with delightful smiles.

"Uh, not time for greetings guys, I think the recruits have arrived." Alex said, pointing to the coach pulling up on the 'road'. (A mud track, more like it). "Quickly, take some timetables, we gotta hand them out when they come." Under his breath, he could hear Shark mutter, _Get promoted to K-Unit, they said. You'll do all the fun stuff, they said_. He didn't even need to try to see the eye roll. Alex couldn't help but think how similar Shark and Eagle were. While Shark was subdued in his homourous ways and Eagle was more... hyper, both of them had the same effect: Make people die of laughing or make people die of irritation. Usually, it was the latter. But his thoughts were interrupted by excited chatter as 80 CIA recruits exited their vehicle.

 _Why do I get a bad feeling about this?_


	2. Chapter 2

**I forgot to put an A/N in the first one. Not much to say except read it, I guess. Oh, and, I'm going to move to Houston in THE U.S. OF A! America, here I come! Beware the Englishness! So, yeah. I'll probably update twice, or maybe once, before 21/7/15, (or rather 7/21/15) which is when I move. But read (and review, you know. Standard stuff)**

The way too cheerful CIA recruits were still chattering away, completely betraying the pain and hate they were going to go through their extremely un-cheerful experience in BB. K-Unit, Ben and Alex just stood there, almost stupefied by their disrespectful behaviour. Wolf looked looked ready to scream, Ben was frankly scared for the recruits, Alex had slipped his emotionless mask on and the rest of K-Unit (except Eagle, of course) just glared. Finally, Agent Rider's mask broke, and anger slipped through with his one word, spoken quietly but as deadly as a silent fart*, "Silence." The 'agents' turned to look .at the speaker, his voice having broken through the chatter. They recognised him as a young twenty-ish or so man, fair haired and brown eyed with lean muscles and a handsome face with a fitting body. They realised his air of superiority and power and promptly shutted up. All of them saw this, of course, and didn't see anything beyond that. All except one.

 _Finally_ , Alex thought, _they shut their hell holes_. Alex scanned the crowd, analysing all of them. Unfortunately, he hadn't had time to read their files, given the short amount of preparation time he had. However, MI6 had assured him that they had done a 'thorough' background check on all the recruits (or as much as they could glean from CIA) and assured him that it was safe to go. Just for safety (and, some might argue, paranioa) Alex had made sure that Joe Byrne and Tamara Knight, now the head and deputy head of CIA, had safety sweeped them too. Better safe than sorry. _A bit ironic_ , Alex thought _, considering my profession_. He decided to 'welcome" the brats in Breacon Beacons by laying down some ground rules.

"Welcome to Breacon Beacons," he said, with a cold, deadly and piercing voice, sounding extremely unwelcoming, "Here, I am the Head Instructor. I am not your father. I am not your brother. I am not your friend. I'm the man in charge, whether you like it or not. I will treat you the way you deserve to be treated- like crap." He waited for a while to let that sink in, after continuing, "Here, I am the Devil. An all powerful being who punishes you for being shit. Consider these my demons- K-Unit and Agent Daniels. We will be training you here to grow up from the utter dickwads you are to shit blossoms."

"There are somethings you must remember. There is no Sergeant on site. He is on leave. Instead, I am the Sergeant for now and you will treat me like one. You either call me Sergeant, sir, or Cub. You all know what appropriate behaviour is, so you should also know that any inappropriate behaviour will have a tolerance level of absolute and complete fuck." The recruits had visibly paled by now, except one who had raised an eyebrow. Alex thought that she looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite put a name to her face. Nevertheless, he continued, "Also, there are other units on site, namely J, R, G and W. They will not be training you. But you will treat the units like you would treat a very angry Dr Banners- with fear. These units can and will punish you for anything that they deem fit."

"If you feel like your being bullied, write a letter to your mom. Don't send her my love because I don't give a shit about your health. But listen to this- here, we will break you into unrecognisable pieces of flesh and bone, but we will not kill you, as much as we would like to. But we will inflict copious amounts of pain on you. You all should have been split into 4 groups earlier. Each group will find their timetables with K-Unit. Any questions?"

Alex didn't expect any questions. After all, who would risk asking a stupid question to a guy who could literally make you suffer hell? In fact, he was about to turn away, when a hand shot through the air. "Sir, I have a question!" said a voice that Alex vaguely recognised. He turned back and had a good look at the woman. She was standing with her arm waving through the air like a school kid, her head tilted up to see his face. Her army jacket was immaculate, seeming like it was ironed and her shoes were almost spot free- a considerably difficult task given the amount of mud there. Her smile was that of a beaming child who just realised that 4 does come after 3. That was also when it clicked. Dark hair, bright blue eyes, those light freckles, that almost enchanting smile- it...it was... _It couldn't be. Damn it! What are the bloody odds?! Stupid, stupid, STUPID intelligence agencies!_

17 year old Sabina Pleasure was, in fact, steaming with anger. Boiling with rage, seething with fury, anger that knew no bounds, etc etc. But, she somehow put her best fake smile on and said, "Sir, I have a question!" Alex, for she knew it was him, turned around and started to well, study her. Not quite checking her out, but in a more analytical way. After just a second, realisation dawned upon him. He slightly parted his lips, just a fraction, widened his eyes and shot his eyebrows up. None of this would have been visible to the untrained eye, or those that didn't know Alex, but, unfortunately, Sabina fell into both those categories. He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with her sudden appearance in his life.

"What?" he asked quietly. He was still trying to appear intimidating, but after that bombshell, he was essentially, shell shocked and couldn't pull it off.

"There's this rumour that's going on, sir," she took a break and continued, "about an MI6 agent that is apparently, the best in the world. They say he has blonde hair and is quite young and that's all that anyone knows about him." Here she waited for some sort of reaction from him. After all, if he denied what she was about to ask, lots of suspicion would be raised among the CIA 'agents' and they would constantly be trying to get an answer from him. But he didn't stop her, so she continued, "They also say his name is Rider. Would you happen to be this person?"

Alex was furiously trying to find an answer. Sabina had put him in such an awkward position. He couldn't just outright deny it. People might get supicious. Rumours might spread and sure as hell the OSA was not going to stop the recruits from spreading the word in America. Accepting it would have the same effect

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Alex decided on answer andreplied- "After the tour, you're coming to my office." His command was cold, dark and brought out his 'tragic side'- something that he hoped he would never have to use.

Surprisingly, Sabina gritted through clenched teeth, "Yes, sir." She was trying to be as cold as Alex, but was failing miserably. That was one thing that she couldn't do.

After the tour, which was basically K-Unit telling them to figure out where stuff was for themselves, Alex slumped in the Sergeant's chair. _Why the bloody fuck did I accept this?_ **Cause you were bored.** _Shut up, left side of brain_! As Alex was having his mental arguement, Sabina Pleasure walked in, her eyes glaring daggers at him. "Sabina." Alex acknowledged, with a nod. Sabina sat herself down, ignoring his authoritive position.

"Alex." she replied. Alex raised an eyebrow. He expected a 'Sir' but apparently, she was that angry.

"Sabina, I-" Alex started, trying to end the incoming war before it started. But that was not be the case as Sabina interrupted him with,

"Save it," she said, her voice filled to the brim with anger, "Let me speak. There a _few_ things we need to sort out. Let's start with the first," she leaned forward in her chair, her elbows resting on the table, "You know, after that mission in Cairo, my dad offered to be your adoptive father. A very generous offer, I might add. Do you know how much I was looking forward to it?"

"But guess what? You refuse. That was a bad day for me. I'd even convinced my friends that you were going to come. But then, I hear you bloody denied and joined MI6. And they didn't even have to black mail you." Her eyes were visibly red now and it was clearly visible even though they were narrowed extremely. She continued, extremely quietly, "On top of that, one day, I hear that you died on a mission! I knew it would happen someday. You, going out there, putting your life in danger everyday, and did you seriously think that you were going to live for more than a year?! I actually cried that day, you know? After a very long tome, I cried." She sighed, her anger apparently leaving her, to be replaced by exhaustion, "And now I see you, live and healthy. Don't get me wrong, I didn't expect a phone call saying you were alive. I just wanted to know you were alive." She leaned back, her head staring off somewhere, while she asked,"What does Jack say about this?"

 *** I don't know why I did that. It just came to me, and I had to. But it's weird, because I barely have any humour in this story. Guess humour is a minor genre for this story. What I'm trying to say is, the silent fart comment is really out of place, but was a spur of the moment sort of thing.**

 **This is basically my first fanfic that I am going to pursue! So, whaddaya think? Good, bad, in the middle, horrendous, amazing, sitting on the fence, whatever. But whatever it is, big or small, minuscule or gigantous, pigmy or oh-God-that-is-huge, tell me in a review!**


	3. Chapter 3

With one hand holding the umbrella above him, the other on the grave marker, and his knees on the floor, John felt a strange sense of peace. He didn't mind that it was raining, or lightning was flashing every few seconds. He didn't mind that he was alone in the graveyard, surrounded by only his ancestors and their bones. Being here with his father and his mother, a day before the anniversary of their death, he realised that all the anger he had bottled up for his father had been let out, on the day that they died. What was he even mad about? How could his father protect his mother from a PTSD ridden ex-soldier, on a rampage across Chelsea? How could his father fight his best friend, even when he was deranged and waving a gun around? People say veterans look like they've seen the worst life has to offer. John Rider's father had stared Death and all his reapers straight in the eye, defied them, and come home no less jovial than before he left. There was no one quite like him, and there never would be. John sighed, standing up and staring hard at the marker. _Marcus Rider. Beloved Father, Husband, and Soldier._ Plain. Simple. So unlike the Riders.

~X~

John Rider was never expected to have many acquaintances, given his line of work. Certainly not enough to warrant this many people at his one-year death anniversary. There were the expected ones, of course, his brother, son, employers, etc. But there were many unusual mourners. When Ian looked around, he could see a definite Scorpia member, the deputy head of MI5, an old USSR general, and- was that the Prince of Brunei? Ian sighed. However surprising the congregation was, he really didn't care. This was the day his older brother died. It was astounding, almost, that after all he had been through, a simple bomb killed him. Even after a year, he hadn't gotten over it. He could swear that he felt John's presence in his house, and sometimes he felt as if he was guiding Ian through his oh-so many missions. Sometimes, he could see John through Alex; whenever he let his friends have the best toy, or give up his own luxuries for others more deserving. Ian would often scold him for it, but he secretly knew that it was only because it reminded him too much of his older brother. Focusing his mind back into the world he realised that most of the people left, leaving only Alex and Ian behind. Ian walked up to the marker, Alex following him closely. _John Rider,_ it read, _Beloved Father, Husband and dearest brother._ Nothing about SAS. Nothing about MI6. In Death, John Rider could finally be free.

~X~

With his hands still bloody, his shirt half ripped to shreds, and his hair a complete, unfixable mess, Alex stood in front of his "sister's" grave. Luckily, there was no one around, or they would've thought that he was one of the deceased, looking at his own ground. However, Alex couldn't care less about others right now. He just came back from a mission, and it was one of _those_ missions. It was a mission where had directly killed someone. He had raised the gun, flicked off the safety, and pulled the trigger. The bullet had gone right between the man's lungs, and pierced his heart. There was a time when Alex would've come home and cried his eyes out over the fact that he _killed_ someone, but that time was gone. He was a dealer in Death to whoever deserved it. The only thing that brought him back to the grave was that he was sure—so sure—that the man he just killed was Razim's right hand. But, as was revealed by Jones, he was just another Scorpia assassin. "I'm sorry," he whispered to Jack. There was a cold fury in his eyes, deep in his heart, permeating into his soul. Whoever said rage burns like a red-hot fire, clearly did not consider Alex. People often use the term 'frozen in shock', but since that was next to impossible for Alex, he was 'frozen in rage'. Rage impossible to control, like a sliding glacier. He knew that Jack would not want this for him. It was a year and a day since her death, but getting over her was like trying to stop that sliding glacier. K-Unit tried to help, they really did, but how could he stop, how could he rest or sleep, when he knew that the ones who killed her was still there? Still lurking in the shadows, all across the world? Thinking about Jack drove him back to a previous time, when he would come home from school with a good grade, and Jack would be there, smiling and laughing and being happy for him. This slowly evolved to him coming home from a successful mission, with Jack smiling and laughing and trying to be happy, trying to cheer _him_ up. He knew that Jack wanted him to be happy like her. To be cheerful and lively as her. After all, that's why it said on her grave marker, _Jack Starbright, The happiest woman in the world._

Nothing more was required.

~X~

 _Jack doesn't say anything about this,_ Alex thought. Immediately after: _Goddamn, I have a dark side._

Sabina, _patiently_ waiting as always, was staring at Alex, slightly angry and expecting an answer. Twiddling his thumbs and fidgeting in his seat, Alex was trying to back out of this situation. He really did not want to have to tell her that Jack was dead. If he had though, he was going to stall it by paraphrasing and bullshitt-ing his way to it.

"Well, um, you see," he started, "Me and Jack don't really talk anymore…"

Taken aback, Sabina asked "What? Why not?"

"I can't really explain it, its kinda-"

Just then, Eagle barged in, flinging the door open and exclaiming, "Cub! Something just happened, we need you-" He looked inside the room and at its occupants. "Sorry, am I interrupting something?"

Almost over eagerly, Alex quickly replied with "Oh, um, no! No, no! What do you need me for?"

"You better come see…"

~X~

"So Damien here was _poisoned?_ "

"From what we gathered by looking at the symptoms and the contents of his feces, yes."

 _Too much info, Doc,_ thought Alex. He was sitting on a chair in the infirmary, next to a comatose recruit, with machines and equipment hooked up to him. He was pale as a dove, and quite frankly looked like he shouldn't be alive. He had an insane fever that kept spiking, and his hand kept twitching randomly. However strange this was, Alex felt a faint sense of familiarity…

"Alright Doc, when do you think he'll wake up?"

The Doctor polished his glasses on the sleeve of his coat, and said, "It's—It's well hard to say. There aren't many records of this particular type of poison being used, as the plant that it comes from is very rare," he sighed, "Consequently, we don't have a definite cure, and the current ones are still development." At this, he looked straight at Alex and spoke gravely, "I have to tell you Cub, there—there are no known cases of recovery…"

It hit him like a freight train. In one instant, he was no more in this world. He was taken back, back to a certain island near Venice, back to a certain Thai botanist, back to-

 _"_ _No known cases of survival, Mr. Rider. Very effective indeed." Then he would always keep an extra dose, he thought. His botany teacher continued, "However, before you think of hoarding this material, young man, be aware that this plant is grown on certain plains of the Himalayas, and flourishes only on certain weeks of the year. In short, it is the rarest plant to be grown today." Ah, what a shame. He could've killed his target just by poisoning her with this. Maybe another day. "Thank you for your time, miss," he said, as he walked out the classroom and onto the rocky shores of Malagosto._

 _Malagosto_

Malagosto!

A frantic looked entered his eyes, while he kept muttering, "They're here… they can't be here…"

"What's wrong Cub, who can't be here?"

"I've—I've got to go... gotta inform Jones… have to…" He got up from his seat, sprinting towards the exit, but he stopped when the Doctor demanded,

"Cub! Who can't be here? Who is it?"

"Scorpia."


End file.
